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“Add the guy with a cigar in Collin’s office for me, and the woman on the widow’s walk. But I’ve been coming around the manor since I was a kid.

“You, too,” he said to Owen.

“Sure. Heard the doors opening and closing, all that kind of thing. No Dobbs until recently. If it’s Molly up in the window, then yeah, caught sight of her a few times. And once…”

He trailed off, drank some wine.

“Keep going,” Cleo insisted.

“I brought Collin up an order of books from the bookstore. I saw this guy raking leaves. Older guy, little gray beard. He stopped a minute, tipped his cap. He was wearing one, so I waved and went in. I asked Collin when he’d hired the new guy to deal with the lawn. He just laughed. He said, like, ‘Oh, he’s been around awhile.’”

“And,” Cleo prompted.

“When I left, I went looking for him. I wanted to give him my number in case he needed something, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

“You never mentioned that.”

He shrugged at Trey. “Didn’t think much of it. It was just a couple months before Collin died. Then it hit me. There wasn’t any truck or car up there. Just Collin’s.”

“Raking leaves,” Sonya murmured. “I wonder if that’s who filled the log holders for the wood-burning fireplaces over the winter.”

Always helpful, Clover answered with music.

“Barenaked Ladies—nice choice,” Owen decided. “‘Jerome.’”

“Jerome. Well, here’s to Jerome, who spared me from hauling wood so I’d have a warm, cheerful office to work in.”

“I’ll go one better.” Cleo raised her glass. “Here’s to the staff of Lost Bride Manor. They take loyalty to a whole new level.”

At three, Sonya turned toward Trey, and in the quiet wash of moonlight, saw him watching her.

“I hear it,” she murmured. “But that’s all. I hear it, but none of it’s her.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep.”

Outside, Cleo stood with Owen and stared at the seawall. Seconds before, she’d watched Dobbs leap off.

“Satisfied?” Owen asked her.

“Yeah. She didn’t see us, you had that right. And no tear in her dress. I needed to see for myself. What happened there happened there in 1806.”

“And we don’t need a magic mirror to see it.”

“I wonder if you could always see it, or if we can now because Sonya’s here, because she’s made this place hers. I guess that doesn’t matter much.”

She rubbed her arms. “It’s cold. Let’s go in.”

“She died out here, on the rocks.” Owen opened the entrance door. “She didn’t die in the house, not even on the property technically. So how is she in the house?”

“She did something to make sure of it before she jumped.”

As they walked up the stairs, Cleo lifted her hands.

“I don’t know what, but she had to be sure of it. The whole point was being here, forever, and killing a bride every generation. She missed with Patricia. Did that gap add to her power or detract from it?

“Something to think about.”

When they reached her bedroom door, Owen gave her a long, silent look. Cleo didn’t need words to read it.